I have often taken to painting and sketching when I have needed a therapeutic outlet for pent up feelings, because I like to think of myself as a bottle of soda. It takes a lot of effort to unscrew the lid and then all the gas escapes in one massive and uncontrollable burst. (And I am not referring to flatulence issues, although if I have any dairy, this will be a different conversation. *cough cough*)
On many occasions, when I have felt down and blue, I have taken to paper and any surface that can work as a canvas. I work on a piece of art for hours and hours, whether it’s an imitation piece or a still life. I have also worked through tears and fits of rage, I find that the most somber of moods often make the most honest and emotional artworks, because everything isn’t all sun and rainbows and bursts of colour.
There is a beauty and light in even the most darkest and neutral of emotions and colours, sometimes the beauty is more powerful than that of vibrancy.
I started turning to writing, sketching and painting about six years ago, which was just shortly after I found out about my health issues. I had always enjoyed art classes when I was younger and I still do. I take art as a subject for school as well, which is absolutely amazing. My art teacher also has Rheumatoid Arthritis so the conversations are always interesting and different.
Art became a massive part of my life after I stopped sport and music. It was the one thing that I thoroughly enjoyed that I got to keep doing. Don’t get me wrong, I still struggle with muscle spasms and a stiff and creaky spine if I sit over something for longer than an hour, which makes it difficult when I lose track of time and look up and see that six or seven hours have passed by.
I generally get a Cortisone shot in my behind (which stings so much and makes you walk like you have one leg…) and get put on bed rest for two or three days. My blood pressure also dips quite a bit at these times.
I have been writing stories, short and really REALLY long stories, since I was young. Writing to me is a beautiful art as well. The way you get to express thoughts and feelings and emotions through a character and story line, gives you this relieved and at ease feeling. It’s an amazing and beautiful experience, even if the story turns out to be horrible.
My first short story was rather bland, it was my first try though. But I heard a little saying a few years ago that says,”I don’t make a mess, I make masterpieces.”
Which is absolutely true. Regardless of how awful you think the story or painting is, the masterpiece doesn’t have to be what you physically created. The masterpiece can be the feeling you get after you have created this outlet, it can be that euphoric feeling. That feeling of utter beauty and relief and pride in what you have done. Those feelings are the best masterpieces.
Yes it is nice to be raised on the piece of work that you created, but there isn’t any amount of praise that can rival that feeling you get once you let your pent up, figurative ‘gas’ go.
I was bullied quite badly and I had many, many negative and bad thoughts running through my head and I still do but part of this experience and situation is the fact that you will always be better in the end, you just need to find something that helps you get a taste and glimpse of that feeling.
That will always be the masterpiece to me, that feeling of renewed hope that things will turn out better in the end. This is what art has helped me realise and believe.
Whatever your therapy is, remember that the best masterpiece is you and that there will never be a mess. It might be messy now but that mess is beautiful.
P.S – For those of you that have been following the posts about my mom, she is finally home after another week in hospital. She had an operation done on one of her nerves, because she couldn’t move at all last weekend so we rushed her to the hospital at one in the morning last Saturday. Thank you for all your prayers and well wishes! They have been and are greatly appreciated.